


darling, only you (can ease my mind)

by CapnJack



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 3x12 Missing Moment, Banter, Canon Compliant, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Fluff, Pining, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnJack/pseuds/CapnJack
Summary: Fitz hesitated for a beat. “We could –” he cut himself off, clearly debating whether to continue. “We could test it.”Jemma blinked. “Pardon?”“Try some fish oil,” he continued, trying to give off an air of nonchalance, but she could tell from the carefully neutral expression on his face that he was teasing her. “See if we’re inhuman.”She bit back a smile. “Fitz, that’s ridiculous.”“Hunter and Bobbi did it!”-/-Missing moment from 3x12 'The Inside Man'. FitzSimmons decide to try some of the terrigen-contaminated fish oil pills - forscience.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 14
Kudos: 46





	darling, only you (can ease my mind)

**Author's Note:**

> The first few lines of dialogue are lifted from episode 3x12 'The Inside Man'. During my AoS rewatch I couldn't help but notice how funny it was that when Daisy walks into the lab and catches them discussing the inhuman vaccine, all four of them are there, but when we cut back to that scene later in the episode FitzSimmons have clearly hightailed it out of there as only Daisy and Lincoln are left LOL. 
> 
> On that note... here is some FitzSimmons fluff post Maveth, pre-A Picture Of Space. Yearning and banter abounds.

“Dr. Fitz, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Jemma smiled across at Fitz as he lifted the syringe, squeezing out a few droplets of blood onto the sample sitting on the workbench. Lincoln followed his movements closely, and Fitz was once again reminded by how little he was bothered by the other man’s presence in their lab – there were few he felt held shared the same level of enthusiasm in science and development that he and Simmons did, but Lincoln was certainly one of them. He didn’t just observe, he contributed, which was why they had wanted to repeat this experiment in front of him.

“Here we have the same blood,” Jemma was saying, referring to the sample of Daisy’s blood that they had taken pre-terrigenesis, “but watch what happens when we add a sample of Creel’s blood to the mix.”

Carefully, Fitz lifted the sample mixture of Creel and Daisy’s blood and slipped it into the glovebox, making sure the hermetic seal closed tight behind it. Once inside, Jemma slipped her arms into the glove slots and used the pipette containing the terrigen to add it to the mixture. They watched the reaction begin to catalyse, the blood changing its genetic structure at an empirical level, before the process suddenly stopped, and the sample reverted to its previous state.

Jemma voiced the conclusion she and Fitz had reached the first time they attempted the experiment. “It not only stops the terrigenesis process, it breaks it down.”

Fitz nodded, pulling off his gloves as he did so. “Creel’s blood is protecting hers.”

He watched as Lincoln took a step closer to the projector screen, staring at the sample.

“A vaccine,” he mused. “Against terrigenesis.”

Jemma removed her goggles. “Potentially. It can’t reverse the effects once someone’s transformed, but –”

Lincoln continued her train of thought. “This could virtually put an end to –”

“To us?”

The three of them turned at the unexpected voice, and spotted Daisy standing at the other end of the lab, watching them all with a dubious expression.

She raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, but isn’t that what you were going to say?”

Fitz winced. “Oh no.”

“Daisy, come on,” Lincoln frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Lincoln bristled. Fitz thought he spotted the sudden and abrupt crackle of electricity, something too quick to completely discern jolting across his forearm. Maybe he imagined it, but it reminded him that he had been forgetting how much power Lincoln held in this room alone – in any room. Inhuman powers were not something to be so easily overlooked.

“Alright, fine,” Lincoln squared his shoulders. “I’ll just say it. Control over the terrigenesis process might not be such a bad thing.”

Daisy gaped, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing – and the hard line in her forehead was one Fitz recognised well. Even before terrigenesis, it had heralded an inbound earthquake.

“Move,” Jemma sing-songed quietly, quickly tapping Fitz on the arm. Apparently, she recognised that expression too. “ _Move!_ ”

Fitz did as he was bid and as subtly as they could manage (which, by their standards, was not likely to be subtle at all) they inched their way toward the entrance of the lab. Daisy and Lincoln barely even noticed.

“Control?” Daisy’s voice was sharp as steel. “Over who people are?”

“Faster!” Jemma squeaked.

“I’m _going_ as fast as I –” They reached the door and swiftly ducked through it, pulling it shut behind them with no small amount of relief. Fitz peered through the glass back at them. “That does _not_ look good.”

Jemma smacked his arm. “Stop gawping, Fitz! Give them some privacy.”

“It’s _our_ lab,” Fitz pointed out. It was a workplace, not a venue for domestic arguments (and he chose not, at that point, to acknowledge the amount of times he and Simmons had disregarded such a rule, since as the joint architects and supervisors of said lab, they were precluded from that criteria). “And we were in the middle of something!”

“Well _I_ don’t want to get in the middle of _that_.”

She thrust a pointed finger at where Daisy and Lincoln had started truly going at it.

“Come on,” she sighed, “let’s get some tea.”

She looped her arm through his, and unfailingly something in his stomach fluttered at the brush of contact, even as he fought to ignore it. As always, he was acutely aware of every part of them that touched, from the skimming of their forearms together to the brushing of their shoulders. The feeling clutched at him – it made him want to scream, or run a thousand miles, or jump on top of tables or off a building just for the thrill of it. For the chance at half a second of something else in the universe making him feel the way Jemma Simmons did. 

-/-

Jemma heaved a heavy sigh; it was impossible to underestimate the soothing power of the perfect cup of tea. From the contended noise Fitz made as he drank, he definitely agreed. She regretted immensely the circumstances in which Daisy had walked in on them, just as they had carelessly thrown the word _vaccine_ out into the lab, as if being inhuman were a disease that warranted a cure. It was understandably a very personal and sensitive topic for her, and Jemma was well aware that their discussion had mirrored the way she had initially felt about the physiological changes in Daisy after terrigenesis.

She regretted that, too. Significantly so. Still, there was little she could do to change the past, and there was so much they hadn’t understood back then – but that didn’t change the fact that she still believed a potential vaccine might _actually_ be a good idea.

“Will you think me awful if I say I agree with Lincoln?” she said, looking across at Fitz. “That control over this process might be a good thing?”

“Not at all,” he replied immediately, lowering his mug. “I – well, I somewhat agree, too. And it’s not like before.” Before, when Daisy’s awakening had been another gulf between them, and they had found themselves standing on either side of it. “Daisy made it through, she became who she was always supposed to be. And a badass.”

“Too right.”

“But she also didn’t have a choice,” he pointed out. “I think – if it were possible – with changes like these, changes that are irreversible – having a choice is, ah, it’s almost more important than that.”

He swallowed, and his gaze dropped to the table between them. Something in the air thickened, and Jemma was sure his thoughts had to have strayed to the differences in himself that had emerged after Ward had dumped them into the ocean. The resulting challenges from his brain injury – and what was worse, her handling of him after.

Maybe Fitz was right. Maybe they _were_ cursed. It felt like her every train of thought was loaded with a terrible memory, landmines at every turn even while they both tried their hardest to step around them.

“It’s a big change,” Jemma said quietly.

Fitz cleared his throat. “Right.”

“Consent is important.”

“Yeah.”

She searched for something to bring back the levity from the moment they had first entered the kitchen, bantering about Daisy the unstoppable force and Lincoln the immovable object. Sometimes it was as easy as breathing, falling into their old patterns, but sometimes it was a little harder. As sweet as her gesture had been of reintroducing themselves to each other, embarking again on the beginning of their relationship, the other _things_ were still there. Will. Hypoxia. Hydra. Inhumans. Will.

Their kiss.

 _You dove through a hole in the universe for me_.

Despite herself, her heart fluttered when she thought about it.

“Would you take it?”

Fitz looked up. “What?”

“The fish oil,” she carried on. “If you were a potential inhuman. Would you go through the mist?”

Fitz drummed his fingers on the table, mulling it over for a few moments. “Not sure. There’s no guarantee you’d pull through it as well as Daisy did.”

“That’s the dilemma,” she pointed out, “in all honesty, from what we’ve seen so far, there is _no_ limit to the physiological changes it could cause, but –”

“But you _could_ end up with an awesome superpower,” Fitz finished wistfully.

“Or you could be like Raina.” _Or Lash_ , she thought glumly.

Fitz hesitated for a beat. “We could –” he cut himself off, clearly debating whether to continue. “We could test it.”

Jemma blinked. “Pardon?”

“Try some fish oil,” he continued, trying to give off an air of nonchalance, but she could tell from the carefully neutral expression on his face that he was teasing her. “See if we’re inhuman.”

She bit back a smile. “Fitz, that’s ridiculous.” 

“Hunter and Bobbi did it!”

“ _They did wha_ – that is just _silly_. They know I tested everyone on the base. None of us have the genetic markers required to catalyse terrigenesis!”

He lifted his shoulders in an innocent shrug. “Then it won’t do anything, will it?”

“Fitz…” she reproached, but he didn’t back down. Merely met her gaze while his own danced with amusement.

It was sorely tempting. She liked the way the corner of his mouth curved upwards when he smiled like that, she liked how easy it was to have fun with him when he was like this; and she knew this was a concerted effort on his part, too, to fight for the good moments. They _wanted_ the good moments. They deserved them. After all this time, they deserved a little fun.

But it was also _highly_ irresponsible.

Fitz coughed something into his fist that sounded an awful lot like _coward_ before taking another sip of his tea, and that settled it for her.

She straightened in her chair. “Would we have to steal any out of the lab?”

“Hunter has some in his locker.”

Well at least that made it a _little_ more ethical, although she doubted Hunter came about a stray bottle of contaminated fish oil pills honestly.

She met his challenge head on with a smirk of her own.

“Make it quick, then. Before I change my mind.”

-/-

Fitz twisted the cap off the bottle, and tipped out two pills onto his palm.

“This is pointless,” Jemma repeated, before tentatively taking one for herself.

Fitz grinned. “Crossing my fingers for laser vision.”

“Uh, _telekinesis_ , obviously.”

He knew it wouldn’t do anything. Rationally, he was well aware that he wasn’t a potential inhuman, that he didn’t carry the genetic markers, and that to him, a contaminated fish oil pill would be no more than just that; a contaminated fish oil pill. Even so, a nervous thrill ran through him at the idea, and he could tell by the tentative sort-of smile Jemma was sporting that she felt the same, that maybe there was the _slimmest_ chance everything in their lives could change forever.

It felt a little like he always felt around her, really. That one wrong move could bring everything tumbling down around them, or make it all so much better than they had possibly imagined. They lived in that in between moment. That split second of inaction sprawled out in front of them like an oil spill on water, just waiting for someone to light the match.

_I’m Jemma Simmons, biochemist._

_Leopold Fitz, engineering._

He took a breath.

That could wait. It could all wait.

Fitz held up his pill tipped towards Jemma like a glass, and she took the cue and followed suit, mimicking _clinking_ their tablets together. Then they each reached for their tea and swallowed them before they could think better of it.

They both froze, watching each other closely for any trace of the familiar husk material erupting on any inch of their skin. A second passed, two, then three. Fitz’s gaze rose to her face; as always, he was struck by the warmth of her deep, brown eyes, and while all thoughts of observing for hints of terrigenesis disappeared, he found she was watching him too. His heart galloped an unsteady beat against his ribcage.

A second passed. Two, then three.

An oil spill on water, just waiting for someone to light the match.

_Will. Hydra, hypoxia, inhumans. Will._

Fitz cleared his throat and looked away.

Jemma, too, was suddenly adjusting the sleeve of her cardigan.

When he finally gathered the courage to look back at her, he could see her expression was bright and cheerful, and he felt instantly at ease.

“Satisfied, Dr. Fitz?” she teased.

Fitz smiled warmly. He couldn’t seem to stop. “Totally and completely human. Imagine that.”

She grinned back. “Imagine that.”

Their gazes remain locked for just a beat too long before Jemma shied away, still smiling, and returned the cap to the top of the bottle.

“Do you think they’re done yet?” Fitz asked mildly, turning over his shoulder to stare in the direction of the lab.

Jemma hummed noncommittally. “We might want to leave it a little longer.”

Whether that had more to do with wanting to give Daisy and Lincoln their space, or extending a rare, shared quiet moment between them for as long as possible, Fitz wasn’t sure. Either way, it was fine by him. 

“More tea?”

Fitz nodded his assent, and Jemma placed two new teabags in their mugs and set the kettle to boil.

She moved smoothly, methodically, and hummed to herself while she did it, and Fitz was so profoundly in love with her that he felt like he could cut through vibranium with the sheer strength of the feeling. It thrummed through him like a second pulse, hammering and bursting to be put out into the world. It was boundless.

And, God, he had no idea what to do with it.

“Can’t believe you’d want telekinesis over laser vision,” he scoffed.

Jemma tutted loudly. “As a telekinetic, I could just _control_ lasers with my mind.”

“Not nearly as cool.”

“But _much_ more efficient!”

She set a steaming mug down in front of him, and happiness felt as close and as attainable as that very moment, small and fugacious, but solid and tender. This was home, no matter what came next.

_I’m Jemma Simmons, biochemist._

_Leopold Fitz, engineering._

The rest could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you thought! <3


End file.
